


Proving Ground

by chuusei_teki_na_koe



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Bondage, Bottom Vergil (Devil May Cry), Daddy Kink, Devil Trigger (Devil May Cry), Emotional Constipation, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Praise Kink, Sexual Roleplay, Torture, Undernegotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28866930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chuusei_teki_na_koe/pseuds/chuusei_teki_na_koe
Summary: Vergil likes to act like a cool badass, but Dante knows his brother. Upon returning to the human world and discovering that which is the internet, Vergil is going to do what any red-blooded male would do upon making this awesome discovery: search for porn.“Let's see here...” Dante scrolls through Vergil's totally exposed browsing history. “Muscle daddy ties and disciplines bratty jock... Oh, Vergil, you only had to ask!”
Relationships: Dante/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 99





	Proving Ground

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this fandom has such a strong top!Vergil bias, and...wow do I not see him as an icy Sephiroth-Sesshomaru type. Can a man not slaughter the masses and also have the powerful urge to get tied up and destroyed?
> 
> I guess I must be the change I want to see in the world...

Watching Vergil sit hunched over at the front desk of Devil May Cry, using the brand-new laptop he'd bought, was both frustrating and comical.

Vergil used his two index fingers, slowly hunt-and-pecking as he leaned forward into the screen. Dante, watching him from where he lay reclined on the couch, tried his best not to open his mouth. For about five minutes.

“What're you searching for?”

Vergil ignored him.

“The P key is at the top right of the letter section.”

Vergil's eyes slid over in his direction. “What?”

“Since I assume you're going to be searching for _P-O-W-E—_ ” Dante didn't even get through that sentence, miming the way Vergil was typing, before a mirage blade skewered him through both cheeks.

Yanking his head sideways off the blade with an “Ow,” Dante slid off the couch to circle around behind his brother. “C'mon, let me give you a hand. What're you looking for?”

It looked like Vergil had managed to open a browser window, at least, but he slammed the laptop shut before Dante could see what he was looking at. “Your input is unnecessary, brother,” he said icily, grabbing the laptop and carting it over to his room.

Dante sighed. Then decided he would look at Vergil's laptop the next time he was out. Just to make sure he wasn't getting any weird viruses or spyware. And maybe to look at his browsing history.

Yeah, basically to look at his browsing history.

x x x

You'd think a guy like Vergil would be more paranoid, but he actually never locked the spare room Dante had emptied out for him at Devil May Cry. It was kinda touching that he trusted Dante so much. Or maybe he just assumed (wrongly) that the threat of violence would keep Dante's paws off his stuff. When had the threat of violence ever dissuaded Dante from anything?

So when Vergil was out on a job, Dante slipped into his room to grab his laptop, bringing it up to the front desk to inspect. First, he went for Vergil's search history.

Vergil's initial searches were all reasonable and expected: things like _“How do I use a computer?”_ and _“What is a mouse?”_ followed up by a bunch of chuckle-worthy searches like _“Where can I find magical artifacts?”_ and _“Where have there been demon sightings?”_ All with perfect capitalization and punctuation, of course.

It seemed, however, that less than twenty-four hours after acquiring that laptop, Vergil had discovered what the internet is really for.

“ _Show me pictures of human sex.”_

Dante just about burst into tears right there. But there was more.

“ _Show me pictures of human sex with men.”_

Okay, getting a little more refined, there. Vergil had quickly found his way to a gay porn site, so on to view his browser history.

It seemed Vergil had spent a while just navigating the site, clicking on the top videos on the front page, then clicking recommended videos and such, before he'd started figuring out what all your standard porn tags meant and searching for things that interested him.

Scrolling down through his search history, Dante couldn't help but snicker to himself. “Daddies, daddies, and more daddies... Oh, Vergil.” Vergil's taste in porn unsurprisingly ran towards the more hardcore, but clicking through video after video of imposing older men taking control, Dante was beginning to see a pattern. One titled, _“Muscle daddy ties and disciplines bratty jock”_ in particular seemed to have been viewed _quite_ a few times.

“And here I thought I was the one with daddy issues,” Dante muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Now how do I bring this up with him without getting stabbed...”

x x x

Dante got stabbed.

Hacking up blood, Dante rasped, “It's not my fault you don't know how to use incognito mode...”

Vergil kicked him in the face, knocking him to the floor, where Dante bled for a bit before it seemed Vergil decided that actually, he wanted his sword back, and braced his bare foot on Dante's hip to yank it out, giving the blade a flick that splashed blood all up the wall before sheathing it again.

“I don't mind getting stabbed,” Dante groaned, waiting for the wound to close, “but can't you just wipe your sword with a tissue? Blood on the walls scares away clients.”

Vergil just harumphed and spun around, returning to the couch, where his half-read book awaited him.

“I'm just saying,” Dante continued where he lay on the floor, “If you wanna do something, just say so. I wouldn't have to look at your browser history if you'd just tell me what you want.”

Vergil didn't reply, plopping himself down on the couch, crossing his legs, and looking determinedly at his book.

But Dante saw through his little act. If Vergil had actually wanted to end the conversation, he'd have gone to his room. He was just doing this because he was embarrassed, and he needed to pretend that he didn't give a damn, when in actuality, he'd watched a library's worth of daddy porn in the last three weeks, and he clearly wanted _something._

“C'mon, there's nothing to be shy about, bro! Remember that time I asked you to stab me through the gut while you fucked me?”

“...You didn't ask for me to do that,” Vergil replied dryly, still looking at his book. “I simply did it.”

“I told you, _give me your best shot, right here,_ while pointing to my stomach.”

“...I assumed that was a taunt.”

“I mean, it was.”

Vergil's eyes lifted from his book to examine Dante, and he got this look like he was suddenly putting all these puzzle pieces together. “...Ah.” After a moment of silence, he continued, “but what makes you so certain I'm interested in being in...that position?” His tone was a little sullen, and it was cute.

“'Cause if it were the other way around, you'd have just done it,” Dante replied, and Vergil scowled.

“The way I figure it,” Dante said, prodding the spot on his stomach as it closed up, “the only problem is finding something that'll actually keep you tied up. What the hell could there even be that you wouldn't just break?”

He wasn't really expecting a reply, so he was surprised when Vergil said, after a moment of silence, “...There is something.”

“...Huh?” Dante levered himself off the ground.

Vergil's gaze dropped to his book. “I'll show you another time.”

x x x

After not saying a word about it for a week, Vergil suddenly invited him out to an abandoned construction site the city over one evening.

It was a shell of a building that had never been completed, with metal girders and raw concrete everywhere. There was also a place where—for the purposes of pulleys or some kind of heavy machinery—there were steel loops implanted in concrete.

Vergil walked over the barren concrete to a location of semi-privacy, his footsteps echoing in the hollow space. Then he turned around and summoned something, and dropped it at his feet with a loud clinking sound.

They were chains. Clearly not ordinary ones—they resembled, if anything, the chains that had bound King Cerberus, roiling with a hundred different shades of demonic black.

“Damn,” Dante whistled, picking up the multiple lengths of chain as he examined them, giving them experimental yanks. “Where'd you get these?”

“I brought them with me from the underworld, upon my return,” Vergil said, with absolutely no elucidation.

Now that Dante had them up close, he noticed an odd scent to the chains—not of metal. They smelled like magic, and old blood...Vergil's blood.

“Are these gonna be okay?” Dante said cautiously. “These things tend to have weird curses.”

“The curse is no longer effective,” Vergil replied. “There will be no problem.”

Dante eyed the chains, then Vergil. There was clearly something here that Vergil wasn't saying, but Dante wasn't going to pry. The fact that Vergil was even here at all was already a massive concession, and one he would never have dreamed of making even a year ago, when they'd travelled through the underworld together.

“All right, if you say so.” Dante shrugged, dropping the chain on the pile with a clink. “You think the cement here will hold, though?”

“For one session, perhaps,” Vergil said with a wry smile as he shucked off his coat, tossing it to the side. “So long as I remain in human form.”

“So what do you want me to do, exactly?” Dante asked, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. They'd never really...discussed sex before. They just kind of did it. Dante operated on instinct when it came to these things, and he was sure Vergil did, too—but there were other kinds of sex besides wild fight-turned-fucking while they practically tried to kill each other in Devil Trigger. Though that was _incredibly_ hot. Variety was the spice of life. Dante was up for trying something new.

Vergil folded his arms and scowled, looking down and to the side. “Well.”

“Well?”

Vergil cleared his throat. “Well.”

“Well?”

At this point, Dante could detect a rising blush coming up Vergil's neck, though he was gritting his teeth as if he could suppress it by sheer force of will. “You could,” he began slowly, unfolding his arms and then folding them the other way, “make me...” he licked his lips, “prove myself. And...force me to submit. And then...” The blush in his neck deepened further, and then Vergil scowled. “...never mind. That's enough.”

Vergil was being so charmingly cute and bashful (by Vergil standards), Dante was ready to give him whatever he wanted. “Sure. Sounds good.”

Vergil seemed to relax a tad, as if he was relieved. Then without further ado, he turned around and began undoing his vest and belt, stripping himself entirely. “You keep your clothes on,” he said to Dante.

And then Vergil knelt down on the cement, back to his brother, and pointing at the pile of chains to his side, and instructed Dante to wrap a length around each thigh and ankle, securing those chains to loops in the cement at either side. Vergil demanded that the chains be painfully tight, though Dante had expected no less. When Dante was done, Vergil uttered some guttural, demonic syllable, and the chains merged into the steel loops there.

The next chain wrapped first around Vergil's upper arms, tightly behind his back, and then bound his wrists together. With another intonation, Vergil had them merge into each other in the same way as the first and second chains on his legs. The next was a chain that went from his arms to wrap around his neck, trailing behind him like a leash that he instructed Dante hold.

Vergil said another unrecognizable word, and there was the distinctive, wet sound of piercing flesh that made Dante twitch. It took him a minute to realize that spikes had shot out from the chains to pierce into Vergil's skin.

“Damn, that's nasty,” Dante said, hands running over the chains on Vergil's back, where blood was already beginning to ooze out. He saw the muscles of Vergil's back flex, as if testing the chains, his hands clenching into fists and then relaxing, and something about the motion went straight to Dante's groin.

Vergil just grunted in response. “Just tie the last one,” he said, jerking his head to a remaining smaller chain on the ground. “Since I'll be unable to spell it closed. ...As a gag,” he elucidated, when Dante didn't seem to get it.

Reaching around in front of him, Dante pulled the chain between Vergil's teeth, then tied it behind his head. This one wasn't very secure, but it probably didn't need to be.

“Well, don't laugh at me if I make a fool of myself doing this,” Dante said as he backed off for a moment to look at his handiwork, and now that he'd actually done it, he was suddenly struck by what he was looking at.

His brother was silently kneeling before him, back exposed to him, naked and helpless. His shoulders were moving slightly, his breathing already up from the pain of the spiked chains, or maybe something else.

Usually, the only way he could get Vergil on his knees was to fight him down and hold him there—Vergil would only let you fuck him if you beat him half to death first, and then you had to hold him down and choke him the whole time to make sure he took it. Of course, Dante also enjoyed this as much as any hot-blooded half-demon would, but Vergil always acted like he had something to prove, when it came to sex.

Dante could get that. He'd been like that too, when they'd been teenagers—he'd been just as eager to go for Vergil's throat, and it had been his greatest fantasy to be able to finally turn the tables on his older brother, fuck him dry from behind and make him scream, and say something stupid like, _“You're my bitch now.”_

But maybe it was age. Maybe he was just getting tired. Sometimes, Dante just liked to go the easy route, lay back, and get pampered. And sometimes, you just wanted a dick in the ass, and it had nothing to do with power or control.

Vergil, however, was not like that.

For Dante, their games of one-upmanship were just that—games, for fun and to be enjoyed. For Vergil, though, everything in life was power play and counter-play. He would notice what seat at the dinner table you offered him relative to the door, how hard you squeezed when you shook his hand, how much money a client made in an initial offer—and then he'd push for more, not because he cared about the money, but because he saw taking the first offer as submission.

Dante had started off meeting him blow-for-blow in these sorts of exchanges, just to get his goat, but more and more often these days, he would just roll his eyes and let Vergil have what he wanted.

Dante could have sworn he hadn't been this bad, back when they'd been kids. Sure, he'd always been competitive, then later obsessed with their father's legacy—but the pettiness, this was new.

Vergil didn't talk about his life in the underworld, but his attitude spoke volumes. It was there in the way he was ready and alert for battle every moment of the day, his tendency to eat meals in secret and never sleep in Dante's presence, the way he'd never let Yamato out of his grip and he just about cut down a dog in the street for startling him by barking, the way that sometimes, after he and Dante had beaten each other into exhaustion, the bloodlust had subsided and Dante just held him in the dark, when he ran his fingers through Vergil's hair in just a certain way, he would make a noise almost like a whimper before choking himself silent and just clinging to Dante with bone-breaking force.

Dante knew that something there had changed him. There was a difference between the brash, cocky young man who had raised Temen-ni-gru because he fully believed he _deserved_ their father's legacy, and the broken, dying older man who had cut away every shred of human weakness out of sheer desperation, because he would never allow himself to lose, no matter what it cost him, because he was just that kind of prideful fuck.

That was why now, seeing Vergil offer himself up freely like this, left Dante's mouth dry.

Maybe he didn't understand Vergil as well as he'd thought he had. Their relationship had always been based on tacit understandings and circling each others' territories, but well, you could see how well those things worked.

Maybe they should be trying something new. If Vergil was willing, then Dante couldn't refuse.

Standing behind Vergil's back to take the chain at his neck in hand, laying a hand between his shoulder blades, Dante asked, “Are you ready?” There was a clink of chains as Vergil nodded.

Dante took a deep breath, stepped back, and yanked the chain at Vergil's neck with full force.

He'd spent the past week thinking about the sort of things he would say in such a scenario—from watching Vergil's favorite videos, and also just from knowing him, he had a vague idea of what Vergil would be into, but it was all sort of delving into awkward territory.

Dante's personal image of a fatherly figure was, well, their own father, though his memories were fairly fuzzy at this point. He wasn't sure if he should go straight into literally things that their father would say, or if this sort of vague _daddy_ thing was more about authority and control, he wasn't really sure. Sometimes, Vergil seemed so transparent, no different from when they'd been kids, and other times, he was a dark, bottomless well.

With a rattle of chains, Vergil toppled backward against the cement before rolling up back to his knees again—he tried to stand, but Dante kicked him down.

“Is this all you can show me?” Dante said, shoving Vergil's back down with his boot, and then said the most fatherly line he could think of, one that tasted rather sharp on his tongue, “I'm disappointed.” Then he kicked Vergil in the side of the head, knocking him down to the cement again.

Dante wasn't really for kicking an enemy while they were down—it just wasn't fun, and it left a bad taste in his mouth. What did it for him was an enemy that fought back. But if he wanted to give Vergil a trial that would satisfy _his_ standards, then nothing less than absolute brutality would suffice. He stomped on Vergil's shoulder and heard the crack of bone. “I'm doing you the kindness of testing your strength, my boy,” Dante said in a tone he hoped bore some sense of authority. “So you can prove to me you're worthy of being my son. Don't fail me.” That _worthy of being my son_ part slipped out before he could stop it. Damn, he really was channeling their father—well, their father if he'd been a sadistic bastard. But he'd been a demon, maybe he really had been like that—to his enemies, at least.

A small, choked sound came out of Vergil's throat, and Dante felt the muscles clench under his boot. Then Vergil wrenched his torso, bending forward to fling himself out from Dante's boot with surprising force.

Faster than Dante could react, Vergil rolled to his knees again—the chains prevented him from getting fully to his feet, but he raised himself a little, jerking his body to the left, then to the right in quick succession, causing the steel loops in the concrete that held Vergil's legs to creak. _Whoa, there,_ Dante thought—too much of that, and they really would pull out. Dante yanked back on the chain again, but Vergil braced himself to keep from toppling backwards this time, the muscles in his neck straining, blood from the chains' thorns oozing down his neck and chest as he resisted the firm pull from Dante's hand.

Figuring he should try not to strain the concrete too much, Dante said, “You should at least be capable of getting one arm free. Show me that, Vergil.”

Dante picked that specifically because he wasn't quite sure if Vergil could do it—those chains were damn tight. But the point was to see Vergil struggle, so something too easy wasn't going to cut it.

Dante kept a tight grip on the chain, pulling it downward to keep Vergil to his knees as he stood behind his brother, one hand on his shoulder. He could feel the muscles of Vergil's shoulder and neck tense as he clenched his teeth around the chain in his mouth, making the metal creak. Dante felt, rather than saw, the straining of Vergil's arms behind his back.

And then he heard the sound of Vergil's flesh beginning to tear.

Dante didn't look. This sort of thing always made him sick with warring reactions—his demon half became hungry, aroused at the sight of blood, while his human half wanted to cringe in sympathetic pain. He just kept one hand locked tight over Vergil's shoulder, hearing Vergil's straining grunts and moans, ripping flesh, and the quiet splatter of blood on cement as he slowly degloved his own arm to pull it free from the chain.

Dante clenched his teeth. Just hearing the sounds got him hard and disgusted at the same time—if it was in the heat of a fight, that was one thing, but this absolute cold-blooded pleasure he got from violence would never not make him sick. On another day, Vergil might be rubbing this in his face and gloating to him, telling him, _what beautiful demonic lust you have_ until Dante punched him in the face, but right now Vergil couldn't even talk, sweat streaking down his forehead and chest from pain and exertion.

There was a vile _pop_ and another splatter as Vergil's stripped arm came free, dropped to his side. Vergil's chest heaved, his neck sagging forward as he leaned against the chain rather than support his own weight. More blood seeped from the spikes embedded in his neck, dripping down his chest toward his navel, mingling with the sweat that glimmered over his skin.

Dante knew this wasn't enough, though.

“Not bad,” Dante said, pulling Vergil's collar back slightly to force him to straighten. “You have spirit.” Then he leaned in toward Vergil's ear, adding at a whisper, “That just makes you worth breaking.”

Vergil visibly shivered, and Dante threw him to the ground.

“If you're really so strong, then show me! You should be able to break free of this! Fight me!” Winding up his leg, he kicked Vergil in the side with full force. Vergil would never allow him to hold back on this.

What Dante did next was nothing other than brutalization. He started off just kicking Vergil, aiming for his stomach and head, stomping on his hands whenever he tried to get up, choking him with the chain hard enough to cut deep into his neck—but with that last yank, Vergil made a strangled, bloody sound around the chain in his mouth and blue lightning crackled down his back, and Dante realized he couldn't keep the kid gloves on any longer. Summoning Devil Sword Dante, he impaled Vergil from the side of his back, to the right of where his remaining hand was bound behind him, and pinned him to the cement below.

Vergil's body crackled with blue lightning again, shifting to Sin Devil Trigger form and attempting to push up off the blade with spurt of blood—from how the chains were unbroken, continuing to hold, cutting bloody-tight into the gaps between plates at his wrists and thighs, Dante knew, instinctively, that these chains had been made to contain Vergil, specifically.

When Vergil triggered, Dante did the same automatically, forcing him down with clawed hands as he summoned a second devil arm—a sword he didn't normally use—to stab his brother through the other side as well, pinning him with both weapons.

“What's wrong, why are you so weak?” Dante hissed at him in a two-toned voice, one claw around the hilt of the second sword as he drove it deeper, his foot over Vergil's horns as he pressed him into the cement. Maybe there was a bit of spiteful bitterness, there, spitting the sort of thing Vergil had said to him so many times back at him. “Is this all you've got to show me? It's taken less than I thought to keep you in line!”

Vergil flapped his wings as he shrieked again, straining, but every time he got an inch off the ground, Dante stomped on his head and torso, forcing him down again.

Thick blood was pooling over the cement. Vergil's demonic regeneration healed him, but it couldn't keep up, and his struggles were getting weaker.

And then, suddenly, without any warning, he slumped against the ground, and his devil trigger unraveled as he lay there, unconscious.

“...Damn,” Dante lowered the clawed foot he had raised up for another kick, shifting back to human form. “Did I fuck up?”

Looking at Vergil passed out at his feet, Dante got the feeling he was missing something, here. Well, he'd love it if Vergil would just be a little more detailed about his fantasies, but that wasn't going to happen. He'd said he wanted to be “made to submit”—was it submission if you just passed out, though?

Scratching his head as he adjusted his boner in his pants, Dante sighed and figured if Vergil was unconscious, that meant this was done.

He yanked out each sword in turn and dismissed the blades before grappling with the issue of the chains. Since he didn't know the incantation, the simplest way to go about things was to yank the ends out of the cement—they were half-gone, anyway—and untangle the mess, wincing only slightly at the pieces of Vergil's skin that were stuck in the thorny chains as he peeled it all off and tossed it away.

Dante took Vergil in his arms, examining his wounds. Closing, but slowly. He really had been exhausted, and he wasn't coming to anytime soon. Feeling decidedly awkward about it, Dante scooped his brother up bridal-style. Somehow, this felt a level more intimate than any sort of actual fucking they'd ever done, and Vergil wasn't even conscious for it. How often would Vergil be this relaxed in his arms? How many times had Dante even seen his brother asleep? He felt like he could count the number of instances on one hand.

Vergil looked paler than usual, and his whole body was smeared with blood and sweat, but he felt warm, and his chest rose and fell with comforting regularity.

Dante walked over to where the Yamato had been laid to the side, kicking it up with his toe to catch it in his hand. Vergil would definitely be horrendously offended to see his sword treated like that, but he was unconscious, so he couldn't exactly complain.

“Lessee now...you just sort of swipe it like this, right...?” Dante made a few aborted swipes at the air, copying what he'd seen Vergil do any number of times, and by some miracle, managed to make a functional portal back to the Devil May Cry.

He carried Vergil back to his own room, and was about to lay out Vergil's futon when he thought better of it, went to the bathroom to grab some wet towels, and cleaned Vergil off somewhat before laying him down on the clean futon. Vergil would definitely get pissy at him for getting blood on his sheets.

After laying him down, Dante paused, kneeling by his brother. He didn't feel right about just leaving him here, but he didn't really know what to do with him, either. Vergil wasn't exactly a big cuddler—more often than not, he would leave Dante's room after sex and retreat to his own space. Vergil didn't say so, but Dante figured he could probably only sleep when he was alone.

Well, since he had the opportunity, Dante was going to take full advantage. Shifting Vergil over, he sat down on the futon with his back against the wall, then pulled his unconscious brother into his lap, leaning Vergil's face against his chest, then pulled the blanket around them into a nice snuggle pile.

“You can stab me for this later,” Dante muttered as he brought one hand to the back of Vergil's head, absently petting his hair.

Dante wasn't really tired, or maybe he was just too keyed up from their...play, so he just sat there for a while, enjoying Vergil's warmth as he waited for his brother to regain consciousness. He was comfortable, Vergil's breath against his shoulder was warm and nice, and he wasn't in a hurry about it. So when Vergil finally did stir against him, Dante was a little let down.

“Finally awake? Took you long enough,” Dante said, but his hand stubbornly stayed on the back of Vergil's head. He'd stop petting when Vergil shoved him off, and only when Vergil shoved him off.

Vergil didn't speak immediately, though, or lift his head. He breathed a few times against Dante's shoulder before saying, “...You took off the chains.”

“Well, I figure you earned it,” Dante replied flippantly, not really considering his response.

His answer seemed to make Vergil freeze for a moment, though. “...Did I?”

His voice was frighteningly quiet, in a tone Dante had never heard before. And suddenly, Dante realized that it wasn't over. And maybe—this was the part that Vergil hadn't been able to say.

“You did,” Dante answered, hand moving softly through Vergil's hair. “You withstood my trial, and showed me your strength. ...You've done well, son.”

Vergil didn't move or say anything more, just leaning against Dante's shoulder. Dante let out a long breath, considering his words before he said, “I think it's time for your reward.” His hand slid down to Vergil's thigh, stroking up to the juncture at his hip, thumb stroking the line of taut muscle there. Then he turned his head to whisper in Vergil's ear, swallowing his bitterness as he said, “For my favorite son.”

Dante _felt_ the shiver run down Vergil's body, neck to thigh, and knew he'd said the right thing.

Dante worked open his belt and fly—he wasn't hard, but Vergil didn't seem to care, immediately dropping down to take Dante's soft length fully into his mouth, sucking him to hardness.

Dante took a sharp little intake of breath, both his hands buried in his brother's hair as Vergil's head bobbed intently—there was no trace of sadism or anger or one-upmanship in the way he sucked Dante off now, this was nothing other than absolute _service_ and the desire to please, and the recognition of that shot heat straight to Dante's cock with a groan.

Once Dante was good and hard, Vergil's lips popped off him, and he didn't say anything, just looking up at Dante like he was _asking permission._

Dante swallowed, then leaned forward to grab Vergil by his thighs, drawing his brother into his lap. “Come up here,” he said, a little rattled by Vergil's easy compliance as Dante took his own cock in one hand, lining it up with Vergil's asshole to lower him gently down into his lap.

Grabbing both Vergil's ass cheeks, Dante pushed his hips up into Vergil in a gentle rhythm, and Vergil responded by obediently bouncing in his lap, laying his hands on Dante's shoulders.

“You're so good,” Dante groaned softly in his ear, and felt Vergil shiver in response. “My strongest warrior. You serve me so well,” he said, rolling his hips up against Vergil's hole as he pulled Vergil's ass closer toward him.

Vergil made a soft noise, his pace stuttering slightly as he rode Dante's cock, but he didn't stop.

Dante's right hand came up, stroking along Vergil's back until it rested in his hair again, and Vergil leaned slightly into his touch.

“You know I'll have no one but the strongest as my son,” Dante murmured to him, watching Vergil's lips part slightly, his face flushed pink. “No one else is worthy of my cock. Will you take it for me?” It sounded silly to his ears, but at this point, he was sure this was just what Vergil wanted to hear. Dante wasn't going to think deeply about it—he wasn't going to think too deeply about any of this right now, it was too much—he was just saying what felt right.

“Yes,” Vergil growled, hips rocking more fiercely, making a wet smack with each descent.

“You want your reward?” Dante's hand stroked downward to cup Vergil's jaw. “You need it?”

Vergil's eyes squeezed shut, but he didn't reply.

“Tell me,” Dante ordered him, fingers tightening around Vergil's face. “I can't give you what you want unless you tell me what it is.” His thumb stroked over Vergil's lower lip, felt the movements of Vergil's mouth as he attempted to form words that didn't come out.

Dante's hand on Vergil's hip gripped tight, pulling his ass up off Dante's cock, and when it slid out of him, Vergil let out a choked _whine_ that Dante had never heard before and rocked against his grip breathlessly.

“I don't want to have to punish you again,” Dante murmured to him, a tone of warning in his voice. “Tell me what you want.”

Vergil fell against his shoulder with a moan, fists balled by the sides of his face. Dante heard the sound of him taking a couple of harsh breaths before he finally choked out, “...Fuck me. Fuck me. Please...Daddy.”

Vergil sounded so desperate, Dante didn't have the heart to tease him another second. “Was that so hard?” he replied, bringing his hand around to sheath his cock back inside Vergil's ass, and Vergil's whole body relaxed against him with a moan. “Now bounce on Daddy's cock.”

Vergil didn't need to be told twice. He was fucking himself hard on Dante's cock, panting as he leaned against Dante's chest. It was like he was totally giving himself over, letting himself be held, cared for, owned, and Dante was helpless but to give him everything he wanted.

“Your ass is so tight,” Dante murmured in his ear. “So good at riding my cock. I can _feel..._ ” he squeezed Vergil's thigh, “how strong your thighs are, how hard your ass is squeezing. My perfect boy, my demon prince, I'm so proud of you.” He thrust up, hard, in a counter-rhythm to Vergil's rocking, and felt Vergil's ass spasm tight around him. Grabbing Vergil by both hips, he pulled his brother down onto his cock as he fucked up into him, partial-triggering as he did so just to grow the size of his cock a little, stretching Vergil's ass around him.

Dante had just been saying whatever the fuck came to mind, not really capable of putting much thought into it at this point, but _that_ line seemed to do it for Vergil, crying out with another shudder as he flung his head back before slumping against Dante's chest again, burying his face like he didn't want to be seen.

“You're mine,” Dante turned say into his ear, Vergil's thick white hair tickling his lips.

“Yes,” Vergil gasped, his grip on Dante's shoulders painful and turning to claws as he continued at a hoarse mutter, “I'm yours, your son, your warrior, your slave, forever.”

In the heat of the moment, Dante's brain couldn't quite process that statement, and all he could think to say was, “Yes, now be good and do as daddy says. Take your cock in your hand, and cum for me.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Vergil replied with immense relief, as if he'd been waiting for that order, and brought one hand to jerk himself off—one, two strokes and he was cumming, jerking in Dante's lap as his cock shot strips of white up all the way to his chin.

Dante fucked him through it, claws digging into Vergil's hips, as praised him. “Good boy...good boy. You've earned...your reward.” When he came in Vergil's ass, Vergil moaned and tightened around him, continuing to rock against him like he was trying to milk every last drop.

Eventually, Vergil slumped against him, panting, and Dante lay back against the wall, and the two of them remained like that for a very long time.

Finally, the first one to open his mouth was Vergil. “If you mention any of this... _any_ of this later...I _will_ murder you in your sleep.”

It would have sounded a lot more threatening if Vergil's face hadn't been smushed against his collarbone, his voice sounding thoroughly fucked-out.

Of course, Dante just couldn't resist. “Why? Are you embarrassed...my demon prince?”

That evening, Dante learned exactly how painful it was to get fucked up the urethra by the business end of a mirage blade.

x x x

After that, it seemed Vergil figured out incognito mode, _and_ he started locking the door to his room. _And_ for a solid month after that, he was absolutely ruthless in their fights and in bed, fucking Dante in the most painful ways possible while denying him pleasure, and adding in some humiliation to boot.

Of course, Dante absolutely made it worse for himself every time he was ass-up in the air with Yamato through his gut by choking out, along with a spurt of blood, “Mmm yeah, right there, my demon prince,” but well, it was worth it.

Maybe the reason he kept poking the “demon prince” thing was because he couldn't bring himself to mention the _other_ thing, and he knew Vergil never would. There was too much history that lay heavy between them, and just thinking about it made Dante want to raid his liquor cabinet. Vergil was here right now, and that was all that really mattered in the end, right?

Despite all Vergil's posturing, though, Dante could feel something had changed between them. Unspoken, maybe, but changed. Vergil's shoulders seemed a bit less tense, and it seemed like he was more...present, his attention drifting into the distance less often. He didn't disappear from the Devil May Cry as often, or as long.

And on the odd occasion, after Dante had gone to bed at night, he'd be woken up by the soft click of his bedroom door as Vergil slipped in once he thought Dante was asleep, joining him in bed.

Those times only, Dante decided to keep his mouth shut and enjoy the cuddle.


End file.
